My felines, deciding that the scratching post I bought them wasn’t enough to sharpen their claws on, took their aggression out on the cushion support straps on a chair my parents’ gave me several years ago. I can see I need new “straps”, and nails to secure them, does anyone know where to aquire these? Michael’s?

I’m glad I took the day off — I feel much better, although I’ve been tired and prone to two hour naps in the middle of the afternoon. I forced myself to eat a ham sandwich just a few minutes ago because, y’know, “feed a fever.” The jury is still out on working tomorrow — I’m going to see how tonight goes and how I feel in the morning.

I was also surprisingly productive, cleaning and organizing my bedroom, living room, and hall closet. Please, no one remark “Ah, your bedroom where all the magic happens!” because by my estimation it has been a really fucking long time since any magic occured in my bedroom, in my apartment, or to me at all.

When I get sick I get contemplative. I need to find a girlfriend.

I’m assuming everyone made a New Year’s resolution to lose weight because last night I had a grand total of four deliveries. That, for those interested, sucks fucking ass.

Thinking back on it, I didn’t get out to the theater much last year. I can’t remember seeing any movies before the summer, while those I saw over it didn’t impress much: Pirates of the Caribbean was a let down, Superman was a drag. Clerks II was funny, and I appreciated the film’s message, particularly of what I’m going through right now: returning to school to change my life and give myself a better future, the key to Dante and Randall’s clerking journey. Casino Royale was amazing, easily the best action-adventure of the year (or at least, that I saw).

Snakes on a Plane, however, which opened in late August, isn’t a great film, and it is precisely that lack of greatness which makes it great. I’ll be the first to admit that I wouldn’t have gone to see the movie without the amazing marketing campaign surrounding it. The hype was in the theater opening night, with audience members throwing plastic snakes, making clicky-clicky snake noises, and screaming over Sammy’s dialogue: “I AM SO SICK AND TIRED OF THESE MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES ON THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANE!”

Well, it’s official: I’m sick.

I called Gary to explore the option of calling out tomorrow. He’s not happy about it, but told me to update him in the morning. I was hoping I’d feel better after a good night’s sleep, but I don’t think there’s any doubt I won’t be able to work tomorrow (or, that if I do, I’ll be pulling one of these).

After a few hours of sweating in bed (and being freezing), my bowels demanded I move to the bathroom. After successfully voiding my bladder and intestines, several times, I started walking to the kitchen to recharge my cell phone and take some aspirin. The short hallway I have to walk through starts to spin, and by the time it’s over, I’m lying on the floor, naked, shivering and sweating. I was down for a few minutes before I was able to get up without the “my apartment is floating” effect, and staggered into my computer chair because I’m hopelessly addicted to the internet.

I don’t think there’s any doubt I’m calling out tomorrow. While I feel better right now, I need to slow down and recharge my batteries before my sickness becomes worse. Better to miss work Friday — which sucks for all the tips I’ll miss — than get so sick I miss several days of work and school later in the week.

This is Sick Snay, signing out and crawling back under the covers.

UPDATE:

A few hours later, I feel considerably better. I’m still going to try to call out — a day of rest and relaxation (and maybe some apartment cleaning*) would do me the very good.

*Seriously, I’m usually a procrastinator about my spring cleaning, but the weather lately has me feeling like I’m Johnny-on-the-Spot, it’s been in the sixties in Maryland the last few days. WTF.